Vengeful goddesses, treacherous weather, awful reversals of fortune, the irritating fortitude of Cyzicus, dreadful plague, and famine combined with Lucullus’s constant pressure convinced Mithradates that he had no choice but to withdraw. Ironically, he had a fantastic amount of gold in his camp, but no food. As a last resort, Mithradates directed his admiral Aristonicus to sail with a shipload of ten thousand pieces of gold. The idea was to bribe loot-hungry Romans with the gold while distracting Lucullus, so Mithradates and his army could escape. But someone betrayed the plan to Lucullus. The Romans captured all the gold before the ship even set sail. Mithradates’ situation was dire indeed.18
POISON PILLS
Mithradates abandoned the siege of Cyzicus. He sneaked out to his ships at night and sailed with his navy to the Hellespont, while his infantry marched overland by night. Many drowned trying to cross a river flooded with heavy snows. Lucullus set out in pursuit and slaughtered about twenty thousand men and took a great many prisoners. The survivors plodded on and took refuge in Lampsacus.
Lucullus set up a siege there. But Mithradates sent a pirate fleet to rescue his soldiers and the entire population of Lampsacus. Lucullus was left besieging a ghost town. Mithradates sailed for Nicomedia, leaving fifty ships in the Hellespont with ten thousand of his best soldiers, under the command of three generals: the one-eyed Roman M. Varius, Alexander of Paphlagonia, and Dionysus the Eunuch. Yet another winter storm swept across Bithynia; many of Mithradates’ naval divisions perished at sea.
Lucullus hurried back to Cyzicus to accept the victor’s laurel wreath, then returned to the Hellespont to raise a fleet. To mop up his victory, he divided his forces among several officers. One, Voconius, was directed to sail east to Nicomedia to defeat Mithradates. The others subdued Bithynian cities. In these places, Appian and Memnon report that the Roman armies not only fought each other over booty, but they butchered a great many people inside temples where they had sought refuge, replaying the dreadful scenes of the massacre of Roman civilians in 88 BC. Ships full of plunder, including a golden statue of Hercules, set sail for Rome, but many, massively overloaded, sank in the Black Sea winter storms.19
Near Troy, Lucullus decided to pitch his tent inside the sanctuary of Aphrodite. Goddesses had been good to him. One night, Aphrodite appeared in a dream, shaking him awake: “Why are you sleeping, Great Lion? The deer are in reach!” Lucullus hopped out of bed and discovered that messengers had arrived in the night. Thirteen of Mithradates’ warships had been sighted in the Aegean, going to join the rest of Mithradates’ fleet commanded by Varius, Alexander the Paphlagonian, and Dionysus the Eunuch at Lesbos. The Romans believed that Mithradates’ navy was poised to sail across the Mediterranean to attack Italy.20
Lucullus’s fleet pursued the three generals. But the latter drew their bronze-prowed warships up onto the beach of a small island off Lesbos. Frustrated, Lucullus sailed behind the island and sent soldiers ashore. They hiked across the island to attack the entrenched enemy from the rear. With this clever pincer movement, Lucullus trapped Mithradates’ men. Some remained ashore inside their beached ships to fight the Romans on both fronts; others tried to set sail. They were surrounded and slaughtered; the survivors fled inland.
Lucullus ordered his troops, “Spare any soldier missing an eye.” According to Plutarch, Lucullus wanted to capture Varius alive so that he could personally inflict a degrading death upon the Roman senator who had supported Marius and served Sertorius and then Mithradates. Lucullus’s men discovered Varius hiding with Dionysus the Eunuch and Alexander the Paphlagonian in a cave. Mithradates always supplied his commanders with poison for this kind of emergency. At the approach of the Romans, the eunuch broke open his capsule, gulped down the bitter poison, and died immediately.
Alexander and Varius were taken prisoner. Lucullus kept Alexander alive to be paraded as a trophy in his Triumph. The Senate awarded a formal Triumph if a commander had killed at least five thousand enemies in a single action in a foreign war. Hundreds of thousands of Romans would come to gawk at the defeated barbarians and their families, wearing their native dress and in chains, trudging behind elaborate tableaux illustrating major battles and events in the campaign, and cartloads of weapons, armor, and other spoils. At the end of the parade, captives could be imprisoned, sold as slaves, freed, or strangled before the statue of Mars, god of war. According to Appian, Lucullus immediately tortured and killed Varius on the island, claiming that it would be “unseemly” to parade a Roman senator in a Triumph.21
According to Plutarch’s sources, Mithradates’ losses were devastating. In this first campaign against Lucullus, nearly all 300,000 of Mithradates’ land forces and camp followers were killed or taken prisoner (Memnon says 13,000 were captured). Lucullus sent an official communiqué wreathed in laurel leaves, signifying a great victory, to the Senate in Rome. His letter brought great relief, since it was feared that Mithradates had intended to invade Italy by sea. Lucullus set sail for Nicomedia, where he expected to find the “wild beast” of Pontus cornered by his officer Voconius. Lucullus looked forward to personally capturing Mithradates alive for his Triumph.
But his confidence was misplaced. His man Voconius had taken a detour for personal reasons. Instead of going after Mithradates at Nicomedia, Voconius had sailed off to Samothrace, where he was busy celebrating his initiation into a sailors’ mystery cult.22 Gnashing his teeth, Lucullus discovered that his prey had already departed Nicomedia, sailing for Pontus with his surviving ships. The war Lucullus had declared over was still on.
PIRATES TO THE RESCUE
Weather and goddesses turned against Mithradates yet again. Another severe storm raged across the Black Sea. Everyone said this tempest was sent by the goddess Artemis. She was enraged because some of Mithradates’ pirates had plundered her shrine at Priapus, a place renowned for excellent wine and all manner of lewd and lascivious activities. The pirates had partied there on their way to rescue the soldiers and people of Lampsacus, described above. Now high winds and towering waves destroyed about sixty of Mithradates’ ships. For many days afterward, the sea tossed up wreckage and nearly ten thousand bloated, battered corpses onto the shore.
At the height of this storm, Mithradates’ own ship, weighed down with royal equipment and treasure, was damaged, swamped by cresting waves. It began to sink. A light brigantine drew alongside. It was manned by pirates; Admiral Seleucus of Cilicia had come to rescue the king. Mithradates’ companions, fearing the buccaneer’s motives, urged the king not to abandon ship. But Mithradates and Seleucus were old friends; he respected the pirates’ seamanship. Their craft were fast and seaworthy.23
Mithradates daringly leaped overboard onto the heaving deck of the small cruiser, entrusting his life to the pirates. They disappeared into the teeth of the howling storm. His companions expected never to see Mithradates alive again.
Against all odds, Mithradates and his pirate rescuers made it to Heraclea. Some friends there distracted the citizens with a sumputous feast outside the city, while Mithradates, Seleucus, and his pirates sneaked in. The next morning, the king assembled the populace, greeted them cheerfully as their liberator, and distributed gold and silver coins to everyone. Leaving a garrison of four thousand men with his Galatian commander Konnakorix at Heraclea, Mithradates and his pirates sailed away through rough seas and foul weather, home to Sinope.24
From Sinope, Mithradates sailed on to Amisus. Taking stock there, reflecting on his miraculous multiple narrow escapes from the jaws of death, Mithradates remained optimistic. The situation was certainly perilous, but his subjects in Pontus were steadfast and willing to fight bravely against the Romans. What would Lucullus do now? Would he withdraw, assuming he had neutralized Mithradates, or would he pursue and invade Pontus? As usual, Mithradates intended to cover all contingencies.
Mithradates could not allow his extended family and harem to fall into Roman hands. It was intolerable to think of the terror, rape, and torture they would suffer before bei
ng dragged to Rome and killed in the wolves’ den. Several of his children were already safe in the Bosporan Kingdom. Other members of the royal family, including his sister Nyssa, were confined in the towers of Kabeira. His lover Stratonice and son Xiphares were also in Kabeira. Drypetina, Mithradates’ doting daughter with double teeth, was the Lady of Laodicea—she now moved for safety to the fort at Sinora, accompanied by Menophilus, a trusted eunuch-doctor.25
Mithradates decided to send the rest of his royal household to a fortress in Pharnacia, on the rugged east coast of Pontus, the land of his old allies the Turret-Folk. Eunuchs accompanied this caravan, which included the two spinster sisters Roxana and Statira, Queen Monime, and the Chian concubine Berenice and her mother.
Descending into his secret vaults at Sinope, Mithradates filled a chest with a large quantity of gold and precious gifts. He ordered a courtier to deliver this treasure to his allies in Scythia, in exchange for more aid. But unbeknownst to the king, this man was more of an opportunist than an optimist. He defected and delivered the treasure to Lucullus. Undeterred, the king sent messengers to his son Machares, viceroy of the Bosporus, and to his son-in-law Tigranes, requesting assistance. Mithradates placed the city of Amisus under the command of his master of siegecraft, Callimachus. With his friend Dorylaus, the Magus Hermaeus (a Greek-Bactrian name), and the rest of his inner circle, Mithradates traveled to his stronghold at Kabeira for the winter of 72/71 BC.
From this secure base, he and Dorylaus raised a new army, bringing together about forty thousand foot soldiers and four thousand cavalry. Most modern historians assume that neither Machares nor Tigranes replied to Mithradates’ urgent messages. But these new reinforcements surely came from Scythia and Armenia. According to Memnon, Macha-res did intend to send grain and supplies to Sinope, and Mithradates’ daughter Cleopatra convinced Tigranes to help her father.26 Some reinforcements went to defend Amisus and Sinope. Mithradates also stationed garrisons and scouts along the routes to Kabeira to watch for Lucullus’s approach in spring. He placed Phoenix, his son by a Phoenician concubine, in command, with orders to relay fire beacons from the borders to Kabeira, to signal Roman troop movements.
Lucullus was in a jam. He had officially—and prematurely—declared victory over Rome’s most feared enemy, and then let Mithradates slip away. Meanwhile, the detestable Pompey not only had smashed the insurgency in Spain but took (many said unfairly) all the credit for putting down the great slave uprising in Italy. Spartacus was killed and six thousand of his followers were crucified on the Appian Way. For very different reasons, this dramatic news dismayed both Mithradates and Lucullus. Mithradates had lost an important political ally in Italy; Lucullus’s rival Pompey was now ascendant in power.
Lucullus’s own supplies were running very low. Morale in his legions was rocky, the soldiers carped at the lack of looting opportunities. Many in Lucullus’s command urged him to abandon the war. Lucullus ignored their advice. Realizing that the only way to stop Mithradates was to kill him, Lucullus ordered his army to invade Pontus—just as Mithradates had anticipated. To do this, Lucullus had to hire thirty thousand Galatians. Each of these human beasts of burden lugged a bushel of wheat on his shoulders, slogging along behind the Roman legions.27
Invasion of Pontus
As the Romans crossed into western Pontus, they found untold wealth and abundance. Lucullus’s soldiers seized so much booty and so many prisoners that the glut drastically devalued everything. The price of a male slave dropped to four drachmas and an ox sold for one drachma (a soldier’s daily wage). As they marched across Mithradates’ land of plenty, the soldiers who had howled for booty now abandoned or destroyed their worthless loot and captives.
Lucullus left troops to besiege Amisus and Eupatoria and sent another legion to besiege Themiscrya, a remote castle on the River Thermodon, one of the fabled lands of Amazon horsewomen. Mithradates had sent men and weapons to these cities. At Amisus, the defenders constantly raided the Roman camp, and even provoked the legionnaires into single combat, as if they were reenacting the glorious duels of Homer’s champions on the fields of Troy. At Themiscrya, named for an Amazon queen, the Romans toiled underground digging “tunnels so large that great subterranean battles were fought in them.” But Lucullus’s men abandoned the siege after the defenders resorted to wildly unconventional tactics. They tossed hives of furious bees into the tunnels. Then, while the frantic Romans flailed at the stinging swarms, the ingenious Themiscryans released wild beasts—weasels, foxes, wolves, boars, and bears—into the underground passages.28
While these Romans contended with Mithradates’ stalwart, resourceful subjects, Lucullus himself led most of his legions on a wandering course around the Pontic countryside that fall and winter. Leaving rich and sophisticated western Pontus far behind, they entered the territory of rustic tribes like the Chalybes and Tibareni. Ironically, Lucullus had no idea that this wild landscape hid more than seventy secret fortresses and secret treasuries built by Mithradates.
Lucullus busied his men raiding tiny villages and ravaging orchards. A gourmand, Lucullus was enchanted by the luscious red fruits of Cerasion (“city of cherries”). Cherries were unknown in Italy. Carefully stashing away the pits from his repasts, Lucullus also dug up several cherry saplings to bring back to Rome. Perhaps he was emulating Alexander the Great, who had introduced the Armenian apricot tree to Greece. In the opinion of his impatient men and officers, however, Lucullus seemed to have completely lost focus, coddling trees and ordering useless raids. They agitated anew for battle and loot.
“We haven’t taken a single city by storm! Why are we wasting time raiding these worthless villages of poor tribes? When will we enrich ourselves with plunder? Why are we leaving Mithradates’ wealthy city of Amisus behind? Why should we follow our feckless general into the wilderness, while our greatest enemy rebuilds his army?”
“That’s exactly why we are lingering here!” Lucullus retorted in a speech to his army, justifying his strategy of delay. “I am waiting for Mithradates to become powerful again! I want him to gather up a force that will be worth our while to fight and so that he will stand his ground at Kabeira instead of fleeing again. Don’t you see that he has a vast and trackless wilderness to fall back on? The Caucasus Mountains could hide ten thousand wily enemy kings like Mithradates!”
Lucullus remembered the advantages enjoyed by Jugurtha and his son-in-law Bocchus, who repeatedly vanished into the North African hinterlands and surged back with new forces. His warning about Mithradates’ ability to disappear into the Caucasus was more prescient than he knew.
Lucullus also raised the daunting image of Tigranes’ vast hordes. “Only a few days’ ride from Kabeira lies Armenia, ruled by Tigranes, King of Kings, Mithradates’ son-in-law. Tigranes rules such armies that he levels cities and transplants entire populations, subduing Parthia, Syria, Media, Palestine, murdering the rightful rulers and ravishing their wives and daughters! Tigranes is eager to make war on Rome—if we drive Mithradates into his arms, then we’ll have to fight Tigranes the Great and his Medes and Armenians! No,” declared Lucullus, “we’ll give Mithradates the time to gather up his own motley forces and muster up fresh courage. Then we’ll crush him forever at Kabeira.”
Lucullus was an able and fair commander, trying to stave off a strike by his men—most of them landless, homesick legionnaires seeking riches and glory, exhausted by years of duty in Anatolia since the First Mithradatic War. As Plutarch foreshadowed, Lucullus, a Roman aristocrat who lacked rapport with the common soldier, underestimated his men’s grievances, “never dreaming that their resentment and insubordination would later send them to commit acts of madness and mutiny.”29
THE BATTLE FOR KABEIRA
In spring, Lucullus finally marched on Kabeira. Warned by the fire signals sent by his son Phoenix from the watchtowers, Mithradates himself led four thousand cavalry to meet Lucullus. His fierce horsemen—Scythian nomads—sent the Romans fleeing in terror. Lucullus’s bravest cavalr
y officer was captured. He was taken to Mithradates’ tent, grimacing in pain from several arrow wounds. “Will you be my friend if I spare your life?” asked Mithradates, smiling encouragingly. “Only if you surrender to Rome,” the soldier shot back, “otherwise I remain your foe!” The king admired the Roman’s spirit and spared his life.30
Phoenix, Mithradates’ son by a courtesan, was torn between filial loyalty and fear of defeat. Phoenix dutifully relayed signals to warn his father of Lucullus’s approach, but then deserted to the Romans, bringing along his scouts. Lucullus was stymied, however. How to avoid Mithradates’ superior cavalry? There was no way to sneak up on impregnable Kabeira, defended by mountains and thick forests. Luck was with Lucullus. His men happened to capture two Greek huntsmen. They agreed to guide the Romans up a mountain trail to a stronghold overlooking Kabeira. At nightfall, Lucullus lit all his campfires as a ruse. Then he and his army followed the hunters up switchbacks and over a deep ravine by an arched stone bridge (its foundations still exist). Lucullus set up camp by dawn, with a view of Mithradates’ camp at Kabeira, just out of reach. Stalemate—neither commander dared to risk outright battle.31
One day Mithradates’ men went hunting. Chasing a stag, they were cut off by some Roman horsemen. Watching from their camp high above the skirmish, Lucullus’s men cheered. But Mithradates’ reinforcements arrived and routed the outnumbered Romans. Lucullus bravely rode down to the plain alone and ordered his fleeing cavalrymen to wheel around and attack Mithradates’ force. His disciplined audacity won the day.
The Poison King: The Life and Legend of Mithradates, Rome's Deadliest Enemy Page 33